Spiders Don't Like the Dentist
by EmilyF.6
Summary: Spiderman isn't afraid of anything, but he definitely doesn't need to see a dentist. Not because he's scared...he just doesn't.


_**A tumblr prompt from a friend who asn't feeling well :)**_

Spiderman wasn't afraid of anything.

Heights? No big deal (okay…so, the Washington Monument had been pretty tall….but like, normal heights. No big deal.)

Thunderstorms? Reminded him of Thor, the hottest Avenger.

Snakes? Just long cute lizard noodles. 10/10 would recommend.

Spiders? Okay, everyone was afraid of spiders. They had 8 legs! That was way too many. Plus, if they bit you, completely unprovoked, mind you, you only had like, a 1 in 100,000,000,000 chance of getting really really sick and then developing superpowers. Most of the time, you just got gross looking welts and sometimes you died. So, it was completely rational to be afraid of spiders.

Anyway, Spiderman wasn't really afraid of anything, which meant Peter Parker wasn't afraid of anything. Not heights or snakes or thunderstorms…and not dentists. Being afraid of dentists would be completely dumb. They were just doctors. Doctors weren't scary. Well, except for the ones in white lab coats that wanted to experiment on people with powers in the movies. Otherwise, doctors were fine. They helped people and were usually nice.

So no, Peter wasn't afraid of dentists. Because he wasn't dumb. The pain in his mouth was totally no big deal. He'd probably just….chewed something wrong. Yeah. The hit he'd taken on patrol the night before had nothing to do with it. His teeth were fine. Everything was fine.

"Pete? Ready for lunch?" May called, and he curled up on his side, pulling the blankets over his head and flinching when he realized that it was almost 12:30. "Did you go back to bed?" She asked, sounding incredulous, voice coming from a little closer.

"Just…reading. Homework." He lied, trying not to move his mouth too much. The pain in his tooth had spread to his jaw and was working its way through his skull, making it impossible to concentrate. But it was fine. He was fine.

"Are you sure?" She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You know you have your internship tonight. If you aren't feeling well, I'm sure Tony will understand." Internship. Peter Parker totally hadn't forgotten about the internship. It had been going on for a solid month now and there was no way he'd forget that he now spent his Friday afternoons at the compound with Mr. Stark. It was Spring Break, so he'd been out late patrolling when he'd run into the gang of guy's who had apparently been trying to rob a liquor store with nothing but crowbars.

He had learned that crowbars are a pretty effective weapon, especially when swung at one's face. So far, he'd managed not to look at May head on, and had stolen some of her makeup to cover the right side of his face. Everything was working out even better than expected. His jaw would heal and everything would be fine. No need to involve May or dentists or anyone else.

"No, I'm fine." He assured her, sitting up a little but keeping his bruised right side away from her. "I'm not really all that hungry. I, uh…had a big breakfast." She narrowed her eyes but let it go.

"Okay. I'm going out with Harold tonight, so if you want to stay at the Compound tonight, that's fine with me." She leaned over, kissing his forehead. "When is Tony getting here?"

"Um…three."

"Alright. Try to finish your homework."

The building pain, however, made concentrating on his homework packet impossible, so instead, he closed his eyes, setting an alarm on his phone, and hoped that by the time he woke up, it would be better. He usually healed pretty quick, so maybe he'd get lucky and he'd be fine after a nap.

He did not get lucky. But honestly, when did he ever?

When he woke, his mouth hurt even more. He could barely even open his mouth, and really, really hoped that Mr. Stark wouldn't want to chat too much. So far they'd just been working on his webshooters and web fluid. He hoped that he'd get to take a closer look at the Iron Man armor at some point, but tonight was not the night to ask. In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to ask anything considering how much his mouth was killing him. The throbbing had spread and he felt dizzy with it, but there was no way he could text The Tony Stark and tell him that he couldn't come to his internship (the one he had with THE Tony Stark) because his mouth hurt. That would be pathetic.

Mr. Stark was one to pick him up after school, even though Peter insisted that he could have taken the subway somewhere closer or something. Or, well, that's what he usually insisted within seconds of climbing into the car, and definitely would have that day had his jaw been working properly. Focusing on being a functioning human being while in this much pain was taking up all of his spare energy and so he had none left over for banter. "Kid? You alright?" The man asked not five minutes after Peter climbed in the car. Peter was pretty grateful that he'd thought to put the makeup on, considering he was pretty sure his mouth was swollen now. Like…more than it had been. His face felt so hot.

"Mhm." He answered the man, nodding and resting his head gingerly against the window.

"You sure? You're…quiet. And you're never quiet." Peter shrugged. "Come on, kiddo. What's up?" He sighed. "Peter?"

"Nothing. Just…tired." He muttered, moving his mouth as little as possible.

"Tired? Peter, it's three o'clock. And spring break. Why are you tired?" Peter shrugged again and the man took a deep breath. Then, Mr. Stark was pulling into the next fast food parking lot they passed, heading over to the drive-through. "Let's grab some food for the drive. What do you want to eat?" Peter stared out the window, shaking his head.

"Not hungry."

And then Mr. Stark pulled into a parking spot, making Peter glad that the man had tinted windows. "Hey." Peter glanced over, only to have the man press the back of his hand to Peter's forehead.

"What…"

"You're always hungry, Peter." The man told him, deadpan. "Literally, always hungry. I've seen you eat two pizzas in a row. Then, less than an hour later, you ate another one. And that was you showing a surprising amount of restraint because you didn't know I'd ordered seven more pizzas." Peter just shrugged and Tony went from lighthearted and amused to seriously worried, eyebrows furrowing. "Peter, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He muttered. Not because he wanted to mutter…mostly because he couldn't open his mouth any further.

The man just stared at him, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms. "Nothing." He repeated. "Okay. Fine. We can wait here."

Peter dropped his eyes, slumping in his seat. He knew he'd have to tell him. But when he told him, the man might just insist he see a dentist and that would mean needles in his mouth and he just really wasn't into that. It wasn't that he was scared. He just…didn't want to. But Mr. Stark always got what he wanted, and Peter wasn't sure what the point was of lying. He would find out anyway. So he sighed and averted his eyes away from the man's once more. "I…I kind of…got hit. On patrol."

"Okay…" The man spoke slowly, obviously going into problem-solving mode. "You got hit. With what?"

"A…crowbar." He swallowed, nodding again.

"Okay. Where?"

Peter sighed, then turned a little so he could see the obviously swollen jaw, sure that the makeup wasn't hiding it as well as he'd hoped. Immediately Mr. Stark reached out a hand and Peter flinched back, embarrassed when the man froze. "I'm not going to hurt you, Pete. I'll be careful." He nodded, and the man placed a delicate finger against his cheek. "Friday?" He asked, touching a button on his watch and a laser shot from the face of the thing, scanning his face. "What are we looking at?"

"Fractured jaw, two broken teeth, and bruising covering the right side of the face."

"Yeah. Why aren't I seeing any bruising?" Mr. Stark asked, and Peter wasn't sure if he was talking to Friday or him, so he answered to be on the safe side.

"That, uh…would be the makeup I borrowed from my aunt."

The man hummed to himself, nodding a little. "Alright. Fri, call Doctor, uh…you know. The dentist."

"Doctor Konta."

"Yeah. Her. Call Doctor Konta."

"Oh, no, Mr. Stark…" Peter started. "You don't have to…"

"Peter, you aren't going to magically heal broken teeth. You have some pretty good healing but I don't think it's that good."

He was quiet the rest of the way back to the compound, and when they reached the building, Mr. Stark led him to the Medbay, pointing to one of the beds. Feeling too crappy to argue or even talk again, he rested his head against the pillow, jumping a little when the man pressed something cold to his jaw. "Easy, kid. Just some ice." The man looked down at him a little critically. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday." He mumbled, glad the man seemed to understand.

"Before you got hit?" He nodded. "Alright, kid. Hold that." Peter did, holding his hand to his jaw to keep the ice pack in place. The man left, then returned a few minutes later with something…a cup. "Here." Peter took the cup with shaky hands and took a careful drink, trying to avoid hitting his teeth with any of the liquid. It only sort of worked out, and it hurt, but it was so good. He was starving and the drink was thick and tasted like chocolate. "The dentist is on her way. We'll get you fixed up soon. Promise." Peter flinched, something the man caught. Of course. "Kid? What's wrong?" He shrugged. "You don't like dentists?" He lifted his eyebrows, surprised that the man had guessed so quickly. "Why?"

"Just…don't."

"Look, Pete. You don't have to be scared. She's one of my personal doctors. I wouldn't let anyone near you that would hurt you." He murmured, totally earnest. Serious. Not a wisecrack in sight.

"It's…I don't…like needles." He all but whispered it, cheeks heating up.

Surprisingly, Mr. Stark didn't laugh. Like, at all. Instead, he nodded. "Okay. I'll see if we can do it without needles. If not, I'm going to be right here." He felt his eyes heat up and he had to look away before he started crying.

"Thank you." A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and the man leaned in.

"I've got your back, Pete. Don't worry."

When the doctor did show up, Mr. Stark had already given him two little pills that had taken the edge off of the pain, and then there was a mask over his nose that, somehow, took away that pesky needle phobia. The man stayed beside him as the dentist worked, and Peter had no memory of any of that, but when he woke up, Mr. Stark was still there, his hand resting on Peter's. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Hmmm? Oh…I'm good."

"Yeah? Good…that's good." The man's lip twitched.

He grinned at the man, overwhelmed with how nice Mr. Stark had been. He'd given him good medicine and helped him when he was hurt. "Did you know that you're my favorite?" The man chuckled a little, patting Peter's hand.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're so nice…"

"Thanks, Pete." Mr. Stark squeezed his hand, a strange look on his face. He seemed happy. But also kind of sad.

"Why are you sad?" He gave a wry smile then.

"I'm not sad, Pete. You're just high."

"You looked sad. You shouldn't be sad, Mr. Stark. You're so cool and nice…and you're the second hottest Avenger."

The man beside him choked, pressing a hand to his mouth and giving a barking laugh. "I'm the what now?" He cried.

"Yeah. The second…hottest." He mumbled.

"Well, that's very good to know, Spiderling. Just out of curiosity, who's the hottest?"

"Thor." He told the man, a dreamy smile stretching over his face. "He's so…strong." Mr. Stark snorted again. "And his muscles are so big…he's so…tall." The man beside him was shaking and Peter turned, concerned. "Are you okay, Mr. Stark?"

"Oh, Pete. I'm great." Mr. Stark told him, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Don't worry. When you come off those drugs, we're going to watch all of this back courtesy of Friday."

"Oh…good." Peter smiled. "I love Friday." Mr. Stark chuckled.

"I know you do, Pete. Get some sleep." And, closing his eyes, he did.

Later he would admit that maybe, just maybe, Spiderman was afraid of dentists. And Spiders. (But those didn't count.)

_**Thank you for reading!**_


End file.
